


Promised To Another

by camichats



Series: Colors, Soulmates, and other things Bucky can't live without [4]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Moving On, One Sided Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes - Freeform, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Steve has been in love with Bucky since they met, and now he has to move on.(starts with one sided Steve/Bucky, ends with Sam/Steve)





	Promised To Another

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary says, this ends with Sam/Steve, but starts with Steve pining after Bucky. A little Steve centric interlude to the main story of this series. 
> 
> That being said, you don't have to have read the rest of the fics in this series to understand this.

When Bucky-- at the time a stranger-- offered Steve a hand up, he didn’t take it. Despite the fact that Bucky had just saved his ass, he didn’t  _ need _ help, so he stood by himself. The last time someone had helped Steve, he’d expected too much, and they dropped him when they found their soulmate. 

He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

But as the weeks passed, when Bucky grinned, Steve’s heart jumped in a way that had nothing to do with an illness and everything to do with what he promised himself he wouldn’t do. 

Bucky didn’t treat him like he was fragile. Teased and shoved at his shoulder. But Bucky also didn’t treat him like there was nothing different. At first Steve was angry, but time tempered the emotion. As frustrating--  _ god _ so eternally frustrating-- as it was, he couldn’t be treated like nothing was different about him. Bucky found a balance that was easy to not get upset about once Steve used his head. 

Steve knew-- he  _ knew _ \-- that there was something special about their relationship, so the first time he touched Bucky’s bare skin, he watched with rapt attention for any sign that Bucky could see colors now. Steve already knew nothing would change for him, the doctors had long since told him that. 

He stared at Bucky for any sign… but nothing happened. He didn’t gasp, he didn’t look at Steve differently, he didn’t even pause. He probably didn’t notice it was the first time they were touching skin. 

Steve convinced himself it was the changing weather that made his heart feel like it was sinking, and nothing else.  _ Nothing else. _ That thought lasted for about four days before he admitted to himself that he loved Bucky. Another two weeks and he knew that they didn’t  _ have _ to be soulmates to be together. He wasn’t a genius with numbers, but he knew enough that the chances of meeting your soulmate were astronomical. Of all the people in the world? What were the chances? Plenty of people fell in love and spent their lives together perfectly happy without being soulmates. 

When he participated in Project Rebirth and touched Bucky again though, he couldn’t stop the disappointment. They escaped Azzano, and Steve figured they were as close to soulmates as they could be without the universe confirming it for them. 

They’d end up together, he was sure of it.

* * *

Now Steve was in the future, it felt like. The present, officially, but like hell it felt like that. 

He was a relic. Useless. He’d been of use for about eight months taking down Hydra bases, and now he was redundant. That  _ work _ was redundant. Hydra was still around, apparently. Natasha and Clint weren’t enhanced. Bucky was, but he was better than Steve ever was. Bruce was literally indestructible, even if it came at a high personal toll and excess collateral damage. 

Captain America was a public figure. Seriously. He was officially public domain, and Tony was having to work to change that so he could be his own person. Legally speaking, Steve wasn’t allowed to say no to the government right now, so he stayed in the tower in the hopes that ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would apply. Tony assured him that by the time people unlearned respect and got greedy, he’d have Steve free of the situation, and told him not to worry about it. 

His current job was to catch up on what he missed, and to go to the therapist Bucky had recommended. 

He tried, he really did. Met with Coulson to discuss what he’d read, went to his biweekly therapy appointments and tried to be open about what he was feeling. The problem was, he didn’t  _ know _ what he was feeling. He felt empty. When he saw Bucky, he felt wistful. Tony, guilty. The rest of the team and Tony and Bucky’s friends, uncomfortable, like he was half a step out of sync with them and didn’t know how to match their rhythm. 

Dr. Smithson asked if he ever felt happy, and he said yes. “When?” 

“This morning.” 

“What happened to make you happy?” 

He fidgeted, looking at his fingers, twisted together in his lap. Bucky had invited him for an early morning run, and when they got back, he made them breakfast. It had felt domestic, sweet, and everything Steve wanted from a life with him. And it certainly hadn’t hurt that Bucky was shirtless and looked damn fine with his hair pulled back. 

But he couldn’t say that. Everyone knew Bucky and Tony were soulmates. So he shrugged. 

“Steve,” Dr. Smithson said gently, “everything you say in here is one hundred percent confidential.” 

“From everyone?” 

“From everyone.” 

He sighed, stared at his fingers a bit more. ‘Therapy doesn’t work without trust,’ she had told him in their first session, and Bucky never would have recommended this-- and her-- if she wasn’t trustworthy. “I’m in love with Bucky, and this morning… it was like we could have been together.” 

“He has a soulmate, correct?” 

Steve grit his teeth, knowing in the back of his mind that she meant well but upset all the same. He already  _ knew _ Bucky had a soulmate, he didn’t need to be reminded of it. Dr. Smithson always encouraged him to say what he was feeling, so he said that. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but I don’t think pretending you’re a couple at breakfast every few days is going to help you. I know that it’s nice to pretend every now and then, but for you, I think it will only hurt you and set back your recovery. You won’t be able to acclimatize to the present if you’re constantly fantasizing about what if’s.” 

Steve went home in angry confusion. Three days later, he returned to Dr. Smithson’s office. 

“Did you think about what I said about Bucky?” 

He had pretended one more morning with Bucky, but it felt sour, not the light sweetness it had been before. As much as he would like to blame it all on her, he knew that wouldn’t be right. She was helping him, and had only helped him by drawing his attention to how toxic that particular fantasy was. But it still left him frustrated, angry, disturbingly empty, and confused on top of it all because the only one he had to blame was himself. “Yes.”

“And?” 

He swallowed thickly. “You were right.” It wasn’t surprising, but that didn’t make it any easier to admit. Steve wasn’t used to admitting he was wrong. He wasn’t used to  _ being _ wrong. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. 

“You take it one day at a time.” 

He stared helplessly at her. 

She shrugged, but not uncaringly. “There’s no instant fix for this, Steve. Emotions are complicated, and react to time.” 

“I’ve  _ had _ time.” 

“You had ten years of holding onto hope. That’s not the same.” 

Steve took a deep breath, and let himself admit-- yet again-- that she right. “How do I take it one day at a time?” 

“Try doing things without him.” 

“I do things without him,” he said defensively. 

“I’m sure you do, but you need to find something that is completely separate from him. Get outside of the Tower and get coffee. Go to an art show, go dancing, whatever you feel like, but go without Bucky or one of the friends you’ve met through him. Now I’m not saying to distance yourself from them, because you definitely should not. But once or twice a week, do something  _ for _ yourself,  _ by _ yourself. You need to develop an identity outside of Bucky and Captain America.” 

Steve swallowed thickly. “I’ll think about it.” 

Dr. Smithson nodded. “Thank you.” 

* * *

Two days later, he went to a coffee shop. He ordered a muffin and left without sitting down because he could hear his heartbeat and little else. The second try went better, and he actually got a drink that time. He sat down, then realized he didn’t have a book. He pulled out the phone Tony gave him, but only stayed for another minute or two, feeling too self-conscious to stay. He chugged the coffee and tried to pretend it didn’t taste weird to drink it that way when he left. 

He tried a couple more times, each better than the last. The coffee shop outings were good, but it didn’t feel like him yet. He hadn’t relaxed enough for it, so he searched for another activity. 

It may not have been the best choice, but he went out running instead of using the treadmill Tony had made. He chose a new route every day, listened to music he had picked out. 

After two weeks, he felt astronomically better, to the point that he went back to the coffee shop. Running at dawn-- well,  _ starting _ a run at dawn-- and then dropping by for coffee before he headed to the tower became his daily routine, and he loved it. 

When Dr. Smithson asked how he was doing-- a month after he discovered his love for early runs followed by coffee shop visits-- he was finally able to smile, and honestly say, “I’m great,” without adding a modifier at the end. He could look at Tony and Bucky without feeling jealous, could be with Bucky without feeling wistful, and could spend time alone without feeling desolate. Tony proudly told him he was in charge of his own life again, and if he wanted to tell some congressmen to go to hell, Tony would join him. 

He was running laps in Central Park one day, and he passed another runner. By itself, this was nothing noteworthy, he passed people all the time, and there were lots of runners in the park. But this man was goddamn gorgeous, and Steve couldn’t help a slightly taunting, “On your left,” the next time he passed him. 

Seeing him a third time that morning was strange-- most people would have stopped by now-- but he wasn’t going to complain. “On your left.” 

“Uh-huh, on my left, got it.” 

Steve was helpless to the grin that stole across his face. 

The next time, the man saw him coming. “Don’t say it,” he warned. 

But, well, Steve was a little shit, it wasn’t his fault that nobody believed Bucky. “On your left.” 

“Oh come on!” He tried speeding up, but Steve was a superhuman, and the man gave it up after a few seconds. 

Steve was finishing up when he saw the man panting on a bench. “Hey.” 

The man glanced at him and chuckled. “Do you always come to the park and make the rest of us feel like we’re slacking?” 

“No, I change my route. Can’t make just you feel like you’re slacking when there’s a whole city out there.” 

“You’re horrible. That’s it, turn over your shield, time for a new Captain America.” 

Steve laughed and set on the bench next to him. “Guess I shouldn’t bother introducing myself.” 

“It would be polite.” 

“Steve Rogers, sir.” 

“Sam Wilson,” he said with a laugh. “Do you call everyone sir or am I special?” 

“Do you outrank me?” 

“Hell no.” 

“Then, yes you’re special.” Steve licked his lips, then said, “Hey Sam, you got any plans after this? I usually get coffee.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Wouldn’t mind some company.” 

Sam smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah man, I’d love to.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know that Sam's in DC not New York, but see also: I do not care. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@cami-chats](http://cami-chats.tumblr.com)


End file.
